


i just wanna (do my best for you)

by soobiscuits



Series: #IJW [4]
Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: M/M, Parents!Chansoo, child!yifan
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-12
Updated: 2018-01-12
Packaged: 2019-03-03 21:02:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,364
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13349469
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soobiscuits/pseuds/soobiscuits
Summary: Kyungsoo just wants to do his best for his son, and Chanyeol knows that.





	i just wanna (do my best for you)

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Kyungsoo Day! 
> 
> I didn't mean to only continue this series a whole whopping year later butttttttt. Yeah. Oops. 
> 
> Enjoy!

“Are you sure that you’ve packed his water bottle?”

Chanyeol looks up from where he’s kneeling on the parquet, hands pausing in their careful manoeuvring of Yifan’s arms into his school uniform. “I’m pretty sure I packed it. If it’s not inside the bag, check its side pocket.” A muffled groan from his son (whose head is still within the shirt) gets Chanyeol’s attention, and he coos a soft apology before resuming what he was doing before.

The _rip_ of velcro fills the silence of the living room after several sounds of zipping, and Kyungsoo’s more-than-audible _ugh there it is_ tells Chanyeol that his husband has found the green water bottle. The tinge of annoyance Chanyeol hears in Kyungsoo’s words also alerts him to his husband’s mood. He speeds up his dressing of Yifan, manhandling his son’s legs into the pair of black shorts even before his head is pushed through the collar of the shirt. 

After pressing his lips in apology to a cheek of a pouting Yifan, Chanyeol uses his fingers to quickly brush his son’s hair into a presentable state. He then gently pushes Yifan towards the front door, telling him to wear his shoes while Chanyeol pointedly turns his head a little towards Kyungsoo, points at him, and frowns exaggeratingly. Although only four years old, Yifan is exceptionally bright, and (like every other time Chanyeol silently gestures to him) he seems to understand his father, nodding his head before whispering, “Make dad smile again, _ba-ba_.”

Chanyeol smiles and playfully pinches his son’s cheek—much to Yifan’s protests—and sends him off to wear his shoes. Turning his head away from the front door area where Yifan has seated himself to embark on the challenge that is donning socks and slipping on shoes, Chanyeol redirects his fond smile to his husband, who is currently still standing at the dining table. The smile falters a little when he sees how distressed Kyungsoo seems to look, and Chanyeol quickly pushes himself off the parquet to make his way to his husband. 

“Soo?” Chanyeol circles his arms around Kyungsoo’s waist, rests his chin on a shoulder. “Sweetheart, what’s wrong?” 

Kyungsoo sighs, and Chanyeol feels the familiar sensation of Kyungsoo’s fingers slipping between his own; Chanyeol clasps them tightly. He shifts a little, moves himself to be able to see Kyungsoo’s face better. The same distressed expression is still etched on his husband’s handsome face. Chanyeol frowns, but he soon smiles a little when Kyungsoo makes eye contact with him. 

“Aigoo, is our dad so worried about Yifan that he’s not going to smile while sending his son off to school?” murmurs Chanyeol as he nuzzles his nose against Kyungsoo’s cheek, his lips grazing Kyungsoo’s jaw. “Yifan is going to be so sad. Boo hoo hoo!” 

The distress on Kyungsoo’s face wanes, and a soft giggle slips past Kyungsoo’s lips. Much to Chanyeol’s relief, Kyungsoo giggles again when he sees the disbelief on Chanyeol’s face. Absolutely delighted, Chanyeol (over)eagerly presses his lips against his husband’s. He swallows another of Kyungsoo’s giggles, and Chanyeol’s urge to take this kiss to the next level mounts when he feels his fingers being _clamped_ by his husband’s. Chanyeol parts his lips, tongue about to slide out and seek entrance–

A loud (and annoyed) clearing of throat startles both Chanyeol and Kyungsoo, and Chanyeol instantly separates his lips from Kyungsoo’s. As someone who has no qualms about being affectionate with others in public, Chanyeol knows that his cheeks are fine, normal. _But_ , Chanyeol does know someone else who doesn’t share the same thought. He hazards a glance at said someone—Kyungsoo’s blushing _absolutely_ furiously. 

Biting back a laugh, Chanyeol turns in the direction of the sound, and he’s not at all surprised to be greeted by his son who is staring at them, seemingly unimpressed, with his arms folded across his chest. Chanyeol sheepishly avoids his son’s judging stare to look down at his son’s shoes, and pride washes over him when he sees (probably) correctly-worn socks and shoes. All those arduous months of teaching Yifan to wear them paid off. Chanyeol feels like crying. 

“ _Ba-ba_ , dad, I’m going to be late for school if you two keep kissing,” Yifan deadpans. 

“W-Well, we can’t be late,” stutters Kyungsoo. He removes himself from Chanyeol’s arms, fingers gently pinching Chanyeol’s side when Chanyeol softly whines in protest. The _behave yourself_ look that Chanyeol promptly receives from his husband immediately shuts him up, and Chanyeol sulkily watches as Kyungsoo walks over to Yifan before leaning down to plant a kiss on the crown of the boy’s head. Kyungsoo then herds their son back to the front door, only to whirl around a moment later to say, “Dear, mind grabbing Kris’ bag? We can’t forget that.”

Although a little taken aback by Kyungsoo’s abrupt action, Chanyeol nods a second later, then smiles. Satisfied, Kyungsoo trails after Yifan to the front door where Yifan has already retrieved two pairs of shoes, and the smile on Chanyeol’s face grows fond as he watches his husband dips down to press his lips to their son’s cheek. While Kyungsoo is (a little) against displays of affection towards Chanyeol, he’s not at all shy to show how much he loves Yifan. (Chanyeol gets rather jealous at times.)

“ _Ba-ba_!”

Yifan’s call snaps Chanyeol out of his daze, and he replies with a _coming!_ Grabbing Yifan’s bag from the dining table, he drapes it on a forearm before deciding to heft it up to his shoulder. The action is completed with difficulty, as Chanyeol’s _adult_ shoulder is much too large for his son’s _child_ -sized bag straps. (Duh.) 

“You’re going to spoil my bag, _ba-ba_...”

“Uh...”

“This is probably what Xing meant when he said that I’ll be raising two kids,” Kyungsoo muses, his large, beautiful eyes glinting with amusement.

Chanyeol slaps on an exaggerated offended expression and, amidst Yifan’s high-pitched laughter, he attempts to noogie his husband. But, of course, he’s quickly subdued by the ever-impressive Kyungsoo, whimpering in mock pain when Kyungsoo’s arms around his neck tightens. 

(Chanyeol’s whimper earns him a kiss on the lips from his husband [when Yifan isn’t looking, of course]. And, Chanyeol returns the favour [when he knows that his son is looking at them].

Kyungsoo puts him in a chokehold, again.)

 

\---

 

“Hunnie!” 

Yifan wrenches his hands out of his fathers’ to run ahead, to where two adults and a kid are waiting. 

The shocked and betrayed expression on Chanyeol’s face causes Kyungsoo to burst out into laughter, and his husband’s beautiful laughter is all Chanyeol hears as he gets pulled over to where his son has run off to. 

“Yeol, wipe that dumb expression off your face.” is the first thing Chanyeol hears after Kyungsoo’s laughter die down and the faces of Baekhyun and Yixing enter his field of vision. “I don’t need to see that first thing in the morning.”

Although still rendered speechless (and oh-so betrayed) by his son’s unexpected action, Chanyeol manages to throw a sneer at his friend. “Don’t make me swear in front of the boys, or tell you off in front of your son, Byun.”

Baekhyun sneers back. “You don’t scare me.”

“Boys, _behave_ ,” Yixing warns. He ends up smashing a hand onto his husband’s face after Baekhyun ignores him, having chosen to continue to glare at Chanyeol instead. The muffled yelp of pain from his father causes Sehun to cackle, and Yifan laughs, too, while both Chanyeol and Kyungsoo bite back their own cackles at the sight of Baekhyun being reprimanded by (the ever-unassuming) Yixing.

“Anyway,” Chanyeol starts. “Did the preparation of Sehun’s first day of school go well for you two?” 

Baekhyun shrugs while Yixing just smiles. He silently points to Sehun, mouths, “Ask him.” 

Chanyeol gets the hint, darts his eyes down to his friends’ son and bends down to see him eye-to-eye. “Sehunnie, any problems while packing your bag?” 

Unable to see how his fathers are smiling down fondly at him, Sehun smiles, his eyes forming crescents and he’s simply adorable. Chanyeol resists pinching his cheeks. 

Shaking his head, Sehun answers, “Nope! _Ba-ba_ packed it for me yesterday! Daddy… Uh… He…” 

Chanyeol doesn’t miss how Sehun glances up at Baekhyun who returns the glance with a pointed look. “Uh, daddy he… He woke me up this morning!”

Baekhyun immediately screeches, “ _What_!? Se–“ His words are interrupted when Yixing’s hand comes to smash his face once again.

“ _Very_ nice, Hyun. Only waking your son up while Xing does everything else,” Kyungsoo drawls, a smirk on his face. Chanyeol hides his smile behind a large hand, and Yixing disguises a bout of laughter as a cough; Baekhyun’s face visibly darkens.

Yifan suddenly slips his hand into Baekhyun’s. “Uncle Baekhyun,” he begins to say. “ _Ba-ba_ packed my bag, too, while dad woke me up this morning, too!”

The intent, although innocent, is clear: Kyungsoo hadn’t helped much in the preparation for Yifan’s first day, either. 

This time, it’s Kyungsoo’s face which darkens. He leans towards his son, fist clenched and about to be raised, only to be stopped by Chanyeol who quickly wraps his arms around his turning-livid husband. Yixing steps in front of Yifan.

“Let go of me! I have a son to scold!”

“Soo!”

Baekhyun cackles.

 

\---

 

From the corners of his eyes, Chanyeol sees movement. Then, warmth presses against his arm and a familiar weight rests on his shoulder. 

“Is it time to pick up Kris yet?”

Smiling at Kyungsoo’s sleep-addled voice, Chanyeol fondly murmurs, “Not yet, sweetheart.” Not taking his eyes off his laptop screen, he reaches up to his husband’s head with his available hand, fingers carding through soft, black strands. Kyungsoo hums in satisfaction. 

Silence retreats into the background of the kitchen as the sounds of Chanyeol’s mouse-clicking and key-typing make up the white noise that Chanyeol hears for an indefinite amount of time. 

Suddenly, hair tickles the underside of Chanyeol’s jaw as Kyungsoo pipes up, “How about now? Is it time, Yeol?”

“Nope.”

Silence. Then– 

“Now?”

Chanyeol chuckles, the same hand reaching up to Kyungsoo’s head to once again thread his fingers through his husband’s hair. “Not yet, Soo. There’s still two more hours,” he replies. 

The lack of a satisfied hum (or a response, really) from Kyungsoo should have alerted Chanyeol. For in the next second, the familiar warmth against his arm and weight on his shoulder leave him completely, and Chanyeol immediately snaps his head towards Kyungsoo. Although he’s pretty sure that he ought to be worried (and he _is_ , don’t misunderstand him), but Chanyeol feels more affectionate, more love instead as a fond expression adorns his face instantly. 

Kyungsoo has taken to lying on the dining table, his face buried within his arms. From Chanyeol’s viewpoint, it looks like an adorable penguin (Kyungsoo is, as usual, decked out in his full black pyjamas ensemble) sitting at his dining table. Chanyeol mentally coos, then squeals when he playfully prods his husband on an arm, and a muffled whine comes from him. Although already a father, Kyungsoo is still so fucking cute. Chanyeol wants to die. 

But, of course, he can’t (and _won’t_ ) die until Kyungsoo is happy and smiling. And right now, his husband isn’t, so Chanyeol saves his work and puts away his laptop to attend to the task at hand. 

“Soo?” he calls, an index gently prodding Kyungsoo on the arm. When he gets no response, Chanyeol calls again. “Sweetheart? Baby?” A smirk. “ _Peach-peach_?”

Kyungsoo’s hand comes flying out of nowhere and for someone who isn’t looking nor wearing his glasses, the movement is _frighteningly_ accurate. It hits Chanyeol square on the face, causing him to squawk in pain. The low-pitched giggle that comes from Kyungsoo does _not_ turn Chanyeol on. 

Massaging his nose, Chanyeol pouts. “Why’d chu hit me, peach-p–”

Kyungsoo’s hand comes flying again, but this time Chanyeol is prepared. He nimbly evades the sudden (but expected) attack, snickering at the disappointed whine that comes from Kyungsoo. He spies his husband’s hand, and grabs it before it returns to its duty of covering Kyungsoo’s face. 

“Let go,” says Kyungsoo, words muffled. “Don’t hold my hand, you– You– _You_.”

At his husband’s ( _ugh why so cute_ ) lack of vocabulary, Chanyeol bites back a laugh. He disobeys Kyungsoo though, both hands clamping onto that hand tighter, and Chanyeol lays his head on the table, moving it close to where he’s positioned Kyungsoo’s captured hand. He presses his lips softly on the pinky finger. 

“Go away.”

“I’m sorry,” Chanyeol immediately says, eyes fixated on the back of his husband’s head where tufts of hair are sticking up due to the nap he took after returning from sending Yifan to school this morning. When Chanyeol had laid his head on the table, Kyungsoo turned his head away, burying his face deeper into the crook of his available arm. While the action, if one does not know Kyungsoo well enough, could have hurt others’ feelings, Chanyeol isn’t offended. Instead, he recognises it as a (rare, adorable) act of petulance. 

“You know I don’t like it when you call me that,” Kyungsoo says. “I don’t like that nickname.” His words are so muffled that Chanyeol almost didn’t catch them, and he moves both Kyungsoo’s captured hand and his head closer to his husband. Kyungsoo doesn’t move in response; Chanyeol is beginning to taste a little of victory.

“I know, I know. That’s why I’m apologising right now.” Chanyeol lightly peppers kisses on the tips of Kyungsoo’s fingers, eyes curving into crescents when he notices how Kyungsoo’s head buries ever-so-slightly deeper into its ‘cave’ with each soft kiss and how the tips of his ears are reddening. Smirking, Chanyeol rests his lips on his husband’s pinky again. “But, sweetheart, you weren’t responding to me and you know I don’t like it when you don’t respond.” There is a lilt in his tone at the end so as to inform Kyungsoo that he isn’t angry—he’s just stating a fact.

Kyungsoo must have understood Chanyeol’s intentions, for he begins to slowly turn his head around until Chanyeol’s eyes finally meet with a pair of large, beautiful eyes. The delight of seeing his husband’s gorgeous orbs don’t last long though, for Chanyeol immediately notices how they’re glistening with unshed tears. 

“Oh, Kyungsoo,” Chanyeol breathes out. While others, if they don’t know Kyungsoo well enough, could have enveloped him in a hug to comfort him, Chanyeol doesn’t. All these years of being by Kyungsoo’s side—from acquaintances, to friends and best friends, to boyfriends, and now husbands—has taught and conditioned Chanyeol to most of Kyungsoo’s quirks. And one of them is that Kyungsoo doesn’t like to be comforted by hugs. Well, not immediately anyway. 

“I don’t know why I’m feeling like this,” Kyungsoo quietly says as he sniffles, nose scrunching up (cutely). “I don’t know why I feel so– Why I’m feeling so _weird_.” A hard blink of those beautiful eyes, and the unshed tears dislodge but they are instantly stopped by Chanyeol’s thumb. 

“Can you put that ‘weird’ into words, Soo?” Chanyeol gently replies, one thumb stroking the corner of Kyungsoo’s eye while the other rubs tiny circles on the back of Kyungsoo’s hand. “So that I can understand?”

Kyungsoo nods, and Chanyeol smiles, only for it to falter slightly in confusion when Kyungsoo suddenly starts to close the short distance between their heads until their noses are touching and Chanyeol can feel warm breaths fanning his philtrum and lips. 

In this position, in this almost non-existent gap between him and his husband, Chanyeol finds himself unable to breathe. Kyungsoo hasn’t shut his eyes, and Chanyeol can’t find it in himself to shut his, or to look away. Even though years have passed, and Chanyeol has gotten used to living with Kyungsoo, there are still some things that he thinks he won’t _ever_ be accustomed to. 

One of them is how Kyungsoo’s eyes—large, beautiful, and _soulful_ —always render him breathless. 

(Those eyes were the reason for Chanyeol’s initial interest in Kyungsoo back then, curiosity piqued by his new neighbours’ son who had the biggest and roundest eyes six-year-old Chanyeol has ever seen.)

“I–” 

Kyungsoo’s voice pulls Chanyeol back to reality, and he belatedly realises that Kyungsoo has closed his eyes. Mentally sighing in a little relief that Kyungsoo has made the hard decision for him (whether to close his eyes or remain breathless under his husband’s gaze), Chanyeol notices how Kyungsoo’s eyelids are quivering. He’s about to continue stroking the corner of his husband’s eye when Kyungsoo resumes speaking. 

“I– I didn’t want Kris to go to school today. Or, ever, actually.”

Had Kyungsoo not moved himself almost-impossibly close, Chanyeol reckons that he would have not heard his husband’s barely-audible whisper. But now that he’s heard it, heard Kyungsoo’s apprehension and frustration, regret washes over him as he gazes at Kyungsoo wistfully. 

Chanyeol knew. He knew of Kyungsoo’s feelings, had an inkling of it when he noticed signs of his husband’s peculiar behaviour. On weekdays, Kyungsoo generally spends more time with their son, since he stays home while Chanyeol works, and he’s always more than glad to relinquish responsibility to Chanyeol once he returns home from work in the evenings. Yet, in the couple of weeks leading up to today, Kyungsoo hadn’t done that. Instead, he did things that he wouldn’t have done. Things such as reading bedtime stories to their son (Chanyeol’s job), preparing Yifan’s dinner portions (Chanyeol’s job), bathing their son after dinner time (also Chanyeol’s job), as well as getting Yifan to sleep in their bed instead of in his own. 

“I think he’s going through a phase,” Baekhyun had said when Chanyeol relayed his husband’s behaviour to both Yixing and Baekhyun during a dinner outing between both families a week ago; Kyungsoo had taken the boys to the washroom. “It’s like children having separation anxiety, but in an adult way.” 

Yixing nodded, then added, “You should talk to him, Yeol. Let him be aware of his feelings and emotions, and how both of you can go about to, mm, sort of ‘fix’”—Yixing air-quoted with his fingers—“this.” He patted Chanyeol on the shoulder. “Remember to talk to him, alright?”

Chanyeol remembered agreeing, but now, in hindsight, realised that he didn’t talk to Kyungsoo at all. Whenever he remembered it, and wanted to bring it up with his husband, the sight of Kyungsoo tussling with Yifan on the bed, or Kyungsoo placing vegetables onto their son’s plate, or when Kyungsoo fondly brushed Yifan’s hair out of his face after reading him to sleep, would somehow, strangely cause Chanyeol to forget. And as the days passed, the matter goes forgotten.

Until now. 

“It’s okay to feel this way, Soo,” says Chanyeol. He resumes his caress of his husband’s eye, the pad of his thumb gently brushing across trembling thin skin. “It’s not weird. It’s perfectly normal.”

“A-Are you sure? But if it’s n-normal, why aren’t you like me?” 

Kyungsoo’s eyes flutter open then, at the same time Chanyeol surges forward to press his lips onto them. The whine that Kyungsoo lets out causes Chanyeol’s chest to bloom, and he smiles against his husband’s cheek. Pulling back a moment later, Chanyeol replies, “Because we’re different, sweetheart. We’re not the same person so we feel differently about things. But that doesn’t mean that our individual thoughts, feelings, and emotions aren’t valid or strange or weird. We just–”

“We just feel however we want to feel?” Kyungsoo quietly interrupts. 

Chanyeol pushes down the urge to kiss his husband’s beautiful eyes. “Y-Yes,” he manages to say, forcing his hands to remain wherever they are—on Kyungsoo’s cheek and hand—instead of pulling Kyungsoo’s face towards his. “And besides, your bond with Yifan might be stronger and on another level because you were the one who carried him for all those months before his birth. He was _in_ you, and that’s bound to account for… something.” 

If Kyungsoo picked up on Chanyeol’s lack of vocabulary, he doesn’t mention it. “That sounds… plausible.”

“Uh huh,” replies Chanyeol intelligently. 

Kyungsoo’s sudden launch into his arms takes Chanyeol aback, but he quickly wraps his arms around his husband and tucks Kyungsoo’s head under his chin. He thinks he feels a smile pressed against his chest. Chuckling, Chanyeol says, “Feeling better now, Soo?”

Kyungsoo nods. Then a muffled _thank you Yeollie_.

Chanyeol grins. And he would have been perfectly content to have his adorable husband in his arms until his mind _helpfully_ supplies an idea. (An idea that stems from the fact that they haven’t been… at _it_ for a while now, what with Yifan sleeping in their bed for the past week.)

“Need a distraction?”

Kyungsoo lifts his head out of Chanyeol’s embrace, looks at him with his glistening, soulful eyes. “Huh?”

“Y’know.” Chanyeol waggles his brows, slaps on a smirk that he hopes is sultry enough to suggest his _intention_. “A _distraction_.”

Realisation dawns on Kyungsoo, and Chanyeol silently laughs when shades of red begin to paint his husband’s cheeks. Visibly embarrassed, Kyungsoo whacks Chanyeol on the chest but pats it softly when Chanyeol whimpers and scrunches his entire face in mock pain.

“Okay.”

Chanyeol’s eyes _fly_ open. “H-Huh?”

Kyungsoo stares straight at Chanyeol, his eyes piercing. “I said ‘okay’.” He moves his face closer, lips grazing the underside of Chanyeol’s jaw. 

Chanyeol instantly stiffens. 

“Sweetheart,” whispers Kyungsoo. He’s mouthing at Chanyeol’s jaw, lips nipping at an earlobe. His breath against Chanyeol’s ear is _searing_. When Kyungsoo pulls back, Chanyeol takes in the sight: his husband’s eyes are cloudy, hooded, _dark_ , and his tongue is darting out to wet his lips, teeth appearing to bite down on the plump, luscious lower lip that Chanyeol absolutely _loves_ to suck on. 

“ _Distract me_.”

Chanyeol would be a _fool_ if he still doesn’t understand his husband’s _intention_. 

With a low growl, he wraps his arms around Kyungsoo’s torso and stands. Kyungsoo immediately circles his limbs around Chanyeol, clinging onto him like a koala in a tree. The giggle that tapers off into a moan when Chanyeol slides his hands down to cup his husband’s butt cheeks seals Chanyeol’s fate. 

“Oh I’m going to distract you alright, _peach-peach_.”

Kyungsoo is too far gone to respond to that.

 

\---

 

“Dad! _Ba-ba_!” 

A small figure comes running, arms outstretched, face bright and smiling. 

When Yifan runs close enough to his fathers, Chanyeol discreetly points a finger at Kyungsoo, hoping that his son is smart enough to understand his intention. 

Fortunately, Yifan is. He dashes straight into Kyungsoo, launching himself at his father and wrapping his thin arms around his father’s neck. Visibly surprised, Kyungsoo only responds with a tight hug after a couple of seconds. Next to them, Chanyeol grins. 

“How was your first day, Fan?” Chanyeol asks as he hefts Yifan up into the air after Kyungsoo released their son from his hug and Yifan immediately reached over to Chanyeol. “Did you have fun? Were your classmates nice? Did you make friends?” 

A palm lightly smacks his arm, and Chanyeol looks to Kyungsoo with a pout on his face. “Soo!” 

Kyungsoo just laughs. “That’s too many questions, Yeol. Your son can’t hear them all.” 

“Well, _our_ son is smart,” Chanyeol huffs proudly. He nuzzles his nose against Yifan’s, earning the fathers a giggle from him. “Our Fan-fan is a clever boy.”

Another light smack on the arm. “Stop it,” says Kyungsoo. There is a small frown on his face but Chanyeol sees the amusement (and a glint of pride) in those eyes he loves so much. “You’re going to inflate his ego.”

“Nah, Fan-fan knows not to be proud. Right?” And Chanyeol kisses Yifan on the cheek, pulling away with a loud _pop_. Yifan giggles again.

A resigned sigh that Chanyeol has heard one too many times in the past (especially so when they were both in high school because _Chanyeol_ ) comes from Kyungsoo. But before he can open his mouth to comment more about the situation, his lips are captured by Chanyeol who leans down and pushes at the back of his neck. 

The kiss is chaste, rated _extremely_ general due to the location that they’re in (at the area in front of Yifan’s kindergarten), and Chanyeol pulls away a brief moment later. His hand remains at the back of Kyungsoo’s head though, and fingers gently scritch at the junction of where the head meets with the neck. Kyungsoo’s satisfied hum is music to Chanyeol’s ears. 

“Don’t worry,” murmurs Chanyeol. He gazes into his husband’s eyes, falling in love all over again when Kyungsoo’s beautiful eyes gaze back. “We’ll nurture Yifan into a good person. Together, we’ll teach our son to be a wonderful young man like his fathers are.” 

The smile that Chanyeol receives from Kyungsoo is dazzling, and for a second he forgets to breathe. (Yup, it’s another one of the things that Chanyeol won’t ever be accustomed to.) 

“Can we go home now?” 

Their son’s petulant (and annoyed) snap causes both Chanyeol and Kyungsoo to laugh, but Kyungsoo quickly nods his head in response and Yifan whoops, small hands clapping in delight. Kyungsoo reaches up to ruffle his son’s hair, expression impossibly fond. 

Looking at them, Chanyeol smiles. He loves Kyungsoo so much, loves Yifan so much, too. While Chanyeol has always known that he’d have a family of his own, he didn’t know _how_ his family would be like. And although on some days tiny (or not-so-tiny) wars would erupt in the household, escalating to drawn-out cold wars, Chanyeol reckons, _knows_ that he will never want to trade either of his family members for anyone or anything else. He loves both his husband and son so, so, _so_ very much, and Chanyeol never realised that he could love someone (or someone _s_ ) this much. His heart is overwhelmed but he feels content.

And so, the family returns home. Kyungsoo curls a hand around Chanyeol’s elbow while his arm circles his waist, and Yifan’s limbs wrap themselves around his neck and torso (like a koala much like his dad). With an arm supporting their son’s buttock while the other rests across his husband’s shoulders, Chanyeol smiles.

**Author's Note:**

> ps, it was so hard to fluff + i wanted to sex it up /so bad/ but i restrained myself ./////.
> 
> pps, comments will be greatly appreciated! 
> 
> ppps, twitter: soobiscuits


End file.
